The To The Point Mary Sue Slash Story From Hell
by The Battling Bard
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen when your two favourite/hated genres collide? Join Mary sue as she discovers the messy implications of a world of hermaphrodite elves.
1. Prologue

Ever noticed how you'll hardly ever find a Mary sue slash story? Well I have, and I think this would be the end result. Crap clichés and stereotyped characters galore!

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Disclaimer: I own nothing; Tolkien doesn't even own anything as I would never presume to connect his good name with this tosh. I don't even own the plot, that honour goes to the author who's spirit I'm channelling for the sake of this story; legolashaldirmadelfluveroflorien8327738393845785.

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I had been a fan of Lord of the Rings slash for many years, but nothing, _nothing, _could prepare me for the terrible reality. Its one thing to read about it, but to witness it first hand was, well, _Disturbing_.

I had been in Middle-earth for a little over a year now. I had had an argument with my step-father who had subjected me to years of physical and mental abuse, so you could say I welcomed the agony when I was hit head on by a speeding lorry. My long auburn hair had been flapping in front of my face you see, & between that and the haze of anguished tears that filled my emerald green eyes, well, do I need to explain?

It had all started tremendously, I had met Elladan and Elrohir completely by chance; they had been searching for a plant with which to concoct a purple goo to throw over (delete as applicable) Elrond/Erestor/Glorfindel. Anyway, they saved me from the hoard of snarling orcs ready to rip my tiny form to shreds, or so I was told later, by the time they arrived I had fainted dead away, later awaking in the Houses of Healing, where I was tended to by Lord Elrond himself.

I was treated as an honoured guest in Rivendell; I was even given my own handmaiden, who personally made me the most beautiful gowns. Imagine that! Quickly becoming ingratiated into the happenings of Middle-earth, I soon became as a sister to Aragorn. And the hobbits! Well what darling creatures! The antics we engaged in shall become legendary in elven society, but the time for the telling of these tales is not now.

Together, Frodo Sam and I destroyed the ring, well how could I let them go alone? Although by now I was wondering why (delete as applicable) Haldir/Legolas/Aragorn/Elrond/Elladan/Elrohir/Boromir hadn't fallen in love with me. But I pushed my future happiness to the back of my mind for the sake of the hobbits. I had become an expert in archery and sword play within weeks under the instruction of Glorfindel in Rivendell and Haldir in Lorien. They needed me.

Now the ring was gone things were starting to get weird.

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Well there it is, the proof I've finally cracked. Flame away slash'n'sue lovers! 


	2. The Middle Bit Before The End

Disclaimer: Me and Tolkien own nothing. The entire plot belongs to the author whose spirit I am currently channelling: haldirlegolasmadelfluveroflorien9345934659346596

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The day of Aragorn's coronation had finally arrived, I had drifted into the lively crowd, vaguely wondering why (delete as applicable) Legolas/Haldir/Glorfindel/Elladan/Elrohir/Aragorn/Elrond hadn't fallen in love with me, when I ran into Haldir, and what was obviously a fellow warden. Well, I assumed he was as he was dressed in an identical uniform. 

"Mae govannen, Haldir of Lorien." I said respectfully, placing a hand over my heart; I was fluent in elvish and very well versed in elvish culture, you see. We chatted for a while, during which time, I enquired as to the nature of Haldir and Mystery Elf's relationship.

"We are partners; we have been partners for over a millennia." Haldir's partner drew himself up proudly.

"You run the fences together?"

"Oh no, we are lovers." Haldir stated, as if this was a normal statement. My eyes widened to saucers and my head snapped to attention.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice reaching such a pitch, it could surely only be heard by passing dogs. "Nothing wrong with that!" I stammered, feeling slightly sick.

"Indeed? I thought the race of men thought it inherently wrong?" Haldir's partner, I still didn't know his name, cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Well, even god say's thing's he doesn't really mean y'know," I said jauntily, "must be fun though, the whole rough and tumble of homosexuality…not that I'm into it you understand…" I trailed off as I realised they were looking at me with a mix of amusement of pity. Spotting Erestor and Glorfindel passing by, I used it as an excuse to escape from this excruciating conversation.

To my surprise, Glorfindel and Erestor did not stay in the celebration hall, but snuck out of a small side door. My curiosity piqued, and I followed them, using all my considerable skill in stealth.

They seemed to be heading towards the library, so keeping a suitably safe distance from the pair I watched in curiosity and they entered the darkened chambers. Peering around the door, I suddenly discovered the true meaning of the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'. Details are not necessary at this, or any other time. Suffice to say I was forcibly reminded of Sharon Stone and Michael Douglas in _Basic Instinct_, substituting Michael for Erestor, naturally.

I was going to need a millennia of therapy to recover from the shock of _that._ Something that is completely available to me, because, guess what! Gandalf has just told me I'm a half-elf! And even though it goes against everything Tolkien ever wrote about peredhels not of the line of Earendel, I have immortality and permission to sail the Aman! Imagine that!

Apparently, the Valar have taken pity on me because of the great suffering I had endured during my short life. Never mind the starving and disease riddled population of East Africa, or the innocent people of Iraq, living under constant fear of torture and terrorist attack. No! I assume it must be because I am pretty, have an obsession with Lord of The Rings and am quite middle-class. They won't let any old riffraff into Aman y'know. Anyway, back to my story.

"Mae govannen, Mary-sue!" Leoglas called out to me chirpily; he had become like a brother to me, though I naturally wished for more. "Would you like to feel the baby?" He asked happily, as if this was a completely natural thing to say. I coughed and spluttered in disbelief.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know. All elves are hermaphrodite's in possession of a vagina a womb and a penis, and thus any gender can create and carry children." Attempting to rid myself of disturbing mental images dancing through my mind, I enquired as to whom the father was.

"Oh, it's Aragorn." He smiled happily.

"And Arwen doesn't mind?" I was slightly incredulous, I certainly wouldn't want my man to be impregnating elf princes.

"Oh no, of course not, it was her idea! She could see the love we bore for one another, so, here we are." He grinned at me manically. I backed away. No wonder (delete as applicable) Elladan/Elrohir/Haldir/Glorfindel/Legolas/Aragorn hadn't fallen in love with me, they were all raging benders!

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There you go, the basic plot of every Mary-sue/slash story minus the pointless waffle. 


	3. The Implausable End

My beautiful black stallion threw his head up into the air, snorting impatiently. I was on my way to Mirkwood; Legolas and I had struck up a close friendship you see, and to soothe my tired soul, he had decided to take me on a trip to the newly restored Eryn Lasgelen.

I patted my horse's sleek black neck as we galloped through the wild lands, whispering comforting words into his ears. He was quite a handful, but I was the only one he trusted enough to let ride him. The highly experienced elven stable hands had been struck speechless when the wild stallion had happily nuzzled my fiery hair as if he had found his soulmate. We loved and trusted each other dearly.

I had quickly become a master of horsemanship, despite the fact that it usually takes people months to years to become proficient on the gentlest of horses, yet after only a few days under the expert tuition of Glorfindel (he had abandoned all his work in favour of this delightful task; I assume my sweet, brave nature was a soothing balm to his tortured soul), I was cantering and galloping joyously upon my wild black stallion.

We arrived in Eryn Lasgelen two days after our depature from Gondor, we had galloped all the way there- elven horses did not need rest or food, and I had acquired such stamina it was not an exhausting excersise for me.

We were met on the steps of Mirkwood by Legolas's father, Thranduil. Completely ignoring Legolas, he looked at me hungrily. I felt a chill through my nether regions as I looked into his stunning green eyes. Funny, I'm sure I had read on the Encyclopedia of Arda, my primary source for Tolkien information, that the Sindar had grey eyes... Anyway, I longed for him to take me there and then, and he seemed happy to oblige.

Ushering us in, he scowled at Legolas, who looked unhappy. Taking my arm gallantly, he led us to a large, spacious hall. The first thing I noticed was the group of scantily clad elven women lounging at the feet of what appeared to be the king's throne. They looked at me suspiciously, and I heard one complain that it was her night with the King. They all seemed to believe that my down to earth mortal spirit would so enrapture the king, that he would desire no other. However, I had no doubt that Thranduil's lust was so strong, he would have sex with anything on two legs.

"My concubines" He said, waving a hand at the beautiful females. Concubines! I had no idea the firstborn partook in such activities! But it seemed Thranduil was truly an unconventional elf.

So, in conclusion, I spent the next hundred years as the King's chief concubine. I had him Wednesday evenings and Friday mornings until I decided to sail to the Undying Lands. Legolas decided to forsake his love for Aragorn in favour of me. After the sexual, verbal and physical abuse he was subjected to by his father, I was the only one who could save him from despair

We lived happily ever after.

The End. OR IS IT? (yes)


	4. Alternate Ending

This alternate killing spree ending is dedicated to everyone who has read 'An Elf's Love'. Just imagine this is Rosa.

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I took up my role as the King's Chief Concubine with great joy, for after the horrors of my life, my king made me feel special and cherished beyond imagining; though he was often prone to bouts of psychosis, apparently unrelated to what he was doing at the time.

I suppose I should have taken this as a warning.

One sunny day, I was dragged from my bed by a hooded figure and carted down to the dungeons, only to be unceremoniously chained from the dank ceiling. I screamed for help, yet the figure clamped his hand over my mouth. Tears trickled from my sparkling green eyes, and I quaked in terror. Finally removing his hand from my mouth, the man ripped the hood from his head.

"LEGOLAS!" I cried. He laughed manically. I cringed and turned my head away, coming face to face with the grotesque form of a female skeleton, also chained from the wall. The female was wearing jeans.

"You didn't think I'd find out? You are a servant of the enemy!" He spat, contempt in his voice, his beautiful face twisted with loathing. I stuttered, cringing at the vehemence in his voice. He didn't even wait for an explanation. Drawing a sword he plunged it into my stomach, ripping it out at such an angle that many internal organs dropped to the floor with a sickening squelch. Then he slit my throat, decapitated me, cut me into tiny pieces and served me for Mirkwood's nightly feast.

I am now condemned to live in hell forever.


End file.
